Do you
See
My death
When
You close
Your
Eyes?
Do you
See
My ashes
When you're
Awakened
By the
Smell of
The
Burnt?
Do you
See
A
Tortured
Soul
When
You
Look
Into my
Eyes?
Do you
See
What
They show
You?
Do you
Hear
The words
I
Breathe?
Do you
Feel
The touch
I prey
On
You?
Do you
Want
To help
Me
Live?
To open
My
Eyes?
To make
Me
See you?
Do you
Wish
I was
Not
Cold?
Do you
Wish
I was
Sand
Instead
Of
Glass?
Do you
Hate
The carbon
That
I am?
Do I
Hate
Me?
Do I
Hate
The
Voices
I
Have?
Do I
Hate
The
Personas
I
Carry?
Do I
Hate
My
Touch?
Do I
Hate
My
Hate?
No.
I déteste it.
Let's
Déteste
My
Insecurities
Together.
~CrosOver
YOU ARE READING
The Psyche Of Mine
Poezja**** I've never really known how to move, where to see or what to feel.. But sometimes, I have moved enough to be alive, I have seen enough to not go blind, And I have felt words enough to feel.. **** **** Its my first time properly penning down m...
